


The Desaturator

by ElementalGhosting



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Creepypasta, Gen, mumbo is insane, zedaph is pretty much dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23207704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElementalGhosting/pseuds/ElementalGhosting
Summary: The Desaturator is a device that produces magic by taking it from players... in a somewhat gruesome way. Its victims? Players who fail their flight tests.Xisuma, JoeHills and GoodTimesWithScar are in for a real treat!
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	The Desaturator

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pegasus Device](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/569128) by AuroraDawn. 



> Was very hesitant about uploading this, since it’s my first fic. Idk if I should do more yet.
> 
> (Gets kinda uncomfortable at a part. If ya want to skip severed limbs, stop reading at ‘Wonderful timing as well!’ and begin again at ‘Doc nodded’)

“Sir, we need more workers. As well as the machines needing constant repairs and checkups, there aren’t enough people for them to keep running. I can’t watch this place fall apart because our 10 employees can’t manage to maintain six floors of machinery.”

“Think about this, Doc. What do you want me to do? Put a sign up in Hermitland, saying ‘Wanted: Redstone engineers to help maintain dangerous and highly illegal death and dismemberment machines for the purpose of providing the community with magic.’ I can’t just give you more people. Where would I get them? How?”

“Please sir, have you looked at this building? The boys and I are trying to keep it running, but we’re fighting a losing battle. This number of people isn’t enough to handle all of the devices, plus the other machinery. Not to mention the expanded sixth floor. We were struggling before, but now we’re in a real predicament...”

At this, Doc’s boss stood sharply from their seat. Their bright, crimson wings flared out, one almost catching the engineer in the chest. Faint red particles emitted from their tips, giving them the look of a powered redstone component. Doc had always admired those wings, and still did, even after their many years of working together. 

Everyone gets their wings, mostly at a young age, as soon as they discover their ‘true selves’. Players good at building might get wings based on their favored blocks. Players good at writing may get wings that resemble quills, or pages of a book. All players’ wings are unique, and getting a set is considered a massive event in the community. These wings were the main drainers of the world’s magic. The factory made sure that the magic never ran out, and that wings could keep being created. 

Almost subconsciously, Doc looked toward his own set of wings. Even in the presence of his superior, Doc was proud of them. His right wing was the natural, shaggy, spotted green of a creeper, a subtle hint to his past. His left wing... well, he lost that one in an accident. After the ordeal, he installed a cybernetic in its place. The mismatched wings would have looked strange on anyone else, but Doc managed to pull it off. The fact that his wings had an electric charge, plus his enormous wingspan made him a fearsome figure in battle... or when rounding up loose failures, something that hadn’t occurred in a very long time.

“Walk with me, Doc”

The cyborg followed his executive out as he opened his office door. The two walked down a dimly lit hallway, one man’s wings emitting a faint red glow, similar to that of a redstone torch. He was obviously upset with Doc, but when he spoke, his supervisor’s voice was calm.

“During my time as superior, the factory flourished. With my help, plus bright recruits like you, the machines were improved, and the building upgraded. My loyalty to the hermits and the factory led to what you see around you, Doc. Without me, this place would be gone, and this world without magic. You wouldn’t have wings. I wouldn’t have wings. The people wouldn’t have wings. Plus, let us not forget that the colors of this world come from the magic. Without the factory, we would be living in a dead, colorless land. Without wings, as well!”

Doc’s boss took a deep breath and continued, still leading the way down the hallway.

“10 years ago, when I took over the factory, everything was working perfectly, Doc. What the hell happened? Why can’t you do this anymore? Mind explaining this to me?”

“10 years ago, I had many more workers and less area to cover. Now, the guys that are left are the lucky ones, who haven’t gone insane or been killed in an accident. Now, there are twice the number of machines to cover. It’s a miracle we can manage these devices at all!”

The administrator ignored Doc, and walked to a door at the end of the hall, his dress shoes clacking on the white tile. The squeaking of Doc’s crocs followed suit.

“Doc, what’s in there?”

“A desaturator, of course! One of the original ones. But why are you showing me this?”

“Remember those days when we needed a whole team of people to extract magic from one person, hmm? Well, with the help of you, me, and the team, we managed to reduce that total to two people! Two people manning each machine! That’s what I like to call progress!”

“Ok, sir, but what’s your point?”

“This progress was used to save funds! Funds used to pay the flight trainers. What, you think we get those failures for free?”

“I didn’t think we payed those guys for the failures we got!”

“No Doc, not payment. Bribes. This isn’t something we want getting out, seeing as what’s in here isn’t something the public will appreciate. I’m doing all of this for the factory. What more could you want up here?”

“Just one more engineer, please! That’s all I want! One person!

“I suppose I could get someone from the Left Factory over here. It’s not like they do anything useful there anyway.”

“Oh thank the hermit lords! Please!”

“I’ll go get someone after we finish our talk here, ok?”. 

The hermit didn’t wait for Doc’s response.

“Wonderful!”

The pair walked into the room with the Desaturator. The lights were dimmed, but after fiddling with the light switch, Doc returned them to their normal brightness. Doc’s superior switched on the device. Two tall, muscular guards were standing in the middle of the room. The boss whispered something to one of them and smiled deviously. 

“Now, let me explain to you what the machine is doing. Wonderful timing as well!”

The guards went behind a curtain in the back of the room, and brought out a shivering person. They seemed fairly young, maybe 16 years old. The kid’s ribs were showing, and they could barely stand, meaning that one of the guards had to drag them out and toss them onto the conveyor. Their arms and legs were tied together to prevent their escape, but he didn’t even struggle against those bonds. Too weak, probably. Their faded blue wings were bent at painful angles under him, many feathers torn out. The machine moved the man closer to the deadly device, him unable to look away from his fate.

“The workers load the failure onto the machine, where those lasers analyze the structure of their body. You should be especially proud of this, Doc. The first part is your design.”

Indeed, red lasers were going over the player’s body. The kid watched them with terrified eyes.

“The machine breaks the raw material down to smaller pieces, as to make it easier to work with.”

“No! NO! Someone help! Help! Someone please he-AAAAUGH!”

The pair looked on unflinchingly as blades severed the kid’s limbs. His screams continued, becoming fainter until eventually stopping.

“After the process is complete, the machine extracts the magic from the pieces. The rest is sent down to the lower factory. They have to figure out what to do with it.”

Doc nodded, struggling to hear over the grinding of the machine.

“That’s wonderful, but why are you telling me this?”

Doc’s administrator pivoted on his heels and walked out of the room. Doc hurried after him.

“I’m trying to make sure you’re not losing your edge. I’m fond of you, you know, and I would hate to lose you.”

“Of course I’m fine! I know that what we’re doing is for the best of the server. You’re a good friend to me, and I love this job. In the early days, I was horrified at the idea of what we were doing, but knowing the service we were doing for the server and how safe we were keeping the hermits... it all made sense.”

Doc’s boss had a relieved expression. He looked back at Doc, smiling, his mood greatly improved.

“Oh, sir, while we have some time, one of the researchers at the Left Factory handed me this letter. Exclusively ‘for your eyes only’ and shit.” Doc reached into his torn lab coat, and pulled out a clump led piece of paper. He tossed it to the other hermit, who caught it without looking back. He unfolded the paper and started to read. Doc carefully looked on.

Doc’s superior stopped in the middle of the hall. He read the letter, hands gripping the paper tighter with every line. Even after finishing the reading, he stared at it. Slowly, he turned to look at Doc, shaking with rage. 

“How long? How long has this been in development?!”

“I... don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Doc. You read the letter. Now, how long has the team been working on this?!”

Doc gulped, trying to form his next sentence carefully. He didn’t want to anger his boss even more.

“In the Left Factory, Zedaph was working on a different project. His team wanted to know what the remains of the failures could be used for. Although Zed is smart, he’s a bit... crazy. It was only last night that he discovered we could take the magic harmlessly from the people.”

The other hermit, staring at the floor, quietly whispered, almost to themselves. “In my years of running the factory, I have seen colleagues, friends and family pass through those machines. And now, you mean to tell me... it was all for nothing?”

“No, sir. This tech didn’t even exist until a few months ago! But don’t dwell on that. Think about our bright future. We don’t have to murder the young anymore! We’d run the whole thing like a blood drive! Hermits would come piling in, giving us an almost infinite amount of magic. No one would be able to resist helping the community! Imagine!” Doc’s voice rose in volume at the last few lines, betraying his excitement.

“Hmmm... imagine. Don’t need to. Shut the project down. Take Zedaph to a Failure Facility. I want to personally find out how many feathers he can have torn out of his wings.” The man ripped up the letter and shoved the pieces into Doc’s hands. “Dispose of these, please.” He continued strutting down the hallway, not even looking back to see if his the creeper hybrid followed.

Doc rushed up to his boss, almost pleading. “Sir, please. We can stop this senseless killing and improve the reputation of both HermitCraft and the company!”

“Senseless. You think it’s senseless? See Doc, this is what has me worried. You take pity on the failures, those who bring shame upon the Hermits and the server. Besides, I can’t just come clean about murdering a bunch of kids. The public would be positively chuffed about that!”

“But- well... maybe we should come clean. It might by for the best...”

The other looked back, an eyebrow raised. “Since when do you have a conscience, Doc? My answer is no!”

The pair walked a dozen more paces, finally stopping at the office of the administrator. 

“I’ll get you that new worker, Doc. For now, don’t go running your mouth off about this, ok?”

“Of course, Mumbo.”

“I’d prefer you call me ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Jumbo’. I know we’re friendly, but I still outrank you, Doc, whether you like it or not.” 

The mustached man walked into his office, wingtips brushing the door frame. “Dismissed!” came the call as Mumbo slammed the door in Doc’s face, making him flinch.

The cyborg strode down the path leading to his own office, Crocs squeaking, thinking happy thoughts of retirement. _I’m getting too old for this job_ , he thought to himself, and chuckled.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m planning on deviating from the original plot of the Pegasus Device a bit, I just wanted to write for a bit first. Irl, these are nothing like the hermits’ personalities, but this is my fic so shut up. Please tell me what y’all think :)


End file.
